Child Of Gallifrey
by Nivek-Tau
Summary: Child Of Gallifrey is the, well, "opening episode" of Police Box, a Doctor Who fanfic about Will McBranson, a young college student from London who's... Well, you'll see. Please enjoy!
1. Prologue

"Nearly thirty years ago, a very old friend of mine told me this story. Once upon a time…"

WIll sat on the edge of his seat, waiting for the all-too familiar words that followed.

"…There was a mad man in a box. To be exact," his grandfather said, "A London police box. Could've been pulled straight out of an old '60's television program. But, of course, it wouldn't be as fun if it was an ordinary one, now would it?"

The young boy dutifully shook his head, and his grandfather smiled. "No, it wouldn't. According to the owner, it was far from a simple police box. It was called the Time And Relative Dimension In Space - the T.A.R.D.I.S. No matter the nature of the device, it still looked like it belonged on a London sidewalk in the middle of the 1960's. Essentially, it was a time-traveling police box."

"Now, on the other hand, the owner of the T.A.R.D.I.S. was a bit more flexible when it came to appearance. The Man Of A Thousand Faces traveled without a known name; rather, he went by a straightforward alias that struck fear into the hearts of his enemies - the Doctor."

"So he was a medicine man like you, Papa?" Will looked at his grandfather with curious blue eyes.

"Well," the storyteller said, thinking of how to answer, "You could say that, I suppose. However, the Doctor's exploits were a bit more adventurous than my own. Over the course of 4 millennia, he saved the universe countless times, facing otherworldly enemies constantly. They all feared him… But perhaps this is why they fought him. For the Doctor, as you can tell, wasn't human. He was a renegade Time Lord, a legendary race of aliens from the planet Gallifrey. But, he wasn't just a Time Lord. The Doctor was the only Time Lord, the only survivor of the Last Great Time War."

Clearing his throat, Will's grandfather looked out over the foggy city of London, capital of the United Kingdom. "It was a war between Heaven and Hell, Will. It ravaged both Gallifrey and Kaled - the homeworld of the eternal enemy of the Time Lords. The organic Daleks locked themselves away in metal shells for purposes ranging from transportation to warfare, and they were all megalomaniacal, every single one of them. To them, there was no species that could compete. Every planet between the two worlds was annihilated, and the war unleashed beings of true evil and malice. If the war continued long enough, it would tear apart the whole of creation."

He waited for a response from his awed grandson and then continued, "The Doctor was nothing short of a hero before the war… But when the time came, and he was forced to become a soldier, he began to change. He fought on the front lines, and he witnessed the Fall Of Arcadia on the last day of the war. Finally, the Doctor had seen enough. He was forced to end the war once and for all using a weapon called the Moment. With the destruction of the Daleks and the Time Lords alike, the Doctor managed to save the entire universe from the war."

"Now, as any other sentient being would, the Doctor nearly lost the will to live. After his regeneration, he once more wielded a guise of happiness to hide the darkness inside - the horrors of the Time War, and what they did to him. As time passed, however… He began to change for the better. One of his companions, Rose Tyler, and those who followed her helped the Doctor to become the man he'd been before the war: a simple mad man in a box, looking around the universe for worlds to save and people to help."

Will smiled and looked up at the night sky. "Where is he now, Papa? Is he still helping people?"  
His grandfather hesitated and then said, "Well… In his own way. He grew older and older with each regeneration, and during his last life, rather than spend his final years among the stars, the Doctor gave up his title and retired to Earth, still trying to make people happy." Will's grandfather leaned closer and whispered, "Some say, the Doctor bought a house in London and spent the rest of his time there."

Will's eyes lit up and he stood up, grabbing the balcony rails and looking over the city. "You mean he lives here? In London?"

His grandfather nodded and coughed loudly, grabbing the cane beside of his chair.

Upon hearing the sound, Will's mother slid open the door to the balcony. "Dad? Are you okay?"

"Of course, my dear… Only a cough."

His daughter looked at him with newfound worry and said, "Well, it's Will's bedtime anyway. C'mon, Will."

Will looked at his mom, and then his grandfather, before sighing and walking toward the door. "Alright… Goodnight, Papa…"

His grandfather gripped the cane tightly. "Dear, can't William stay out a moment more? The story isn't finished…"

After a moment of hesitation, Will's mom nodded. "Fine. Don't keep him out here too long, I've got to go to work soon."

"Of course."

Glancing back at her father, she closed the door behind her and walked off as Will sat back down in the chair.

His grandfather let go of the cane and grabbed Will's hand. "Now, listen. The Doctor is a fictional character, a fairy tale, but that doesn't mean he can't be real to you. For generations past, and generations to come, the Doctor has been a symbol of protection and strength… Ultimately, of peace and goodwill. What I give you, Will, you must use in his name. Use it for protection and strength, peace and goodwill, and use it for me. Can you promise an old man that?"

Will nodded eagerly, wondering curiously what his grandfather would give him.

Quick as a flash, his grandfather pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into Will's palm. It felt like it was made of warm metal, and before Will could get a look at it, his mother came back outside. "I hope the story's finished, Dad, cause Will's got to go to bed now. Just remembered he has a test tomorrow."

"Alright, dear. Let him sleep. Goodnight, Will."

Will's mother pushed him inside, and the last Will saw of his grandfather was an old storyteller staring up at the stars in silence, with an odd smile spread across his face.

Leaning back in his chair, Will's grandfather looked over the city of London silently.

'How'd you end up here?,' he thought, glancing up at the shining stars above. 'Once you traveled the universe in your time-traveling police box… And yet here you are, in 21st century London…'

Sighing, the Doctor picked up his metal cane and held it in front of him. He grunted and pushed a tiny button on the side; for an instant, the head of the cane glowed red. But quicker than a vapor vanishes in the wind, the light stopped.

"Sonic cane," he muttered. "Piece of junk next to the screwdriver…"

The Doctor stood the cane beside his chair once more and then took a long look down at London. As he watched, the entire timeline of the age-old city unfolded before him. A tiny collection of tribal settlements grew into a Roman fortress, which then began slowly morphing into the modern city over which he now sat.

"Let's see if your memory still holds… That's where Donna lived, I think… And there's the Royal Hope Hospital, not on the Moon anymore…" The Doctor chuckled lightly, remembering Martha Jones. "The Woman Who Walked The Earth… And… Is that Rose's apartment block?"

Trying to sit up a bit, the Doctor fell back into his chair and shook his head. "May have been, I don't know… Doesn't matter anyway…" He looked up at the night sky. "So many companions… Too many to count… So why even try?"

As he thought more of those who had come and gone, a tear fell from his eye and traced his wrinkled cheek. "Where have they all gone…? Some left for better lives here, on Earth… And the rest…"

The Doctor's lip quivered and he closed his eyes. "You've lost so much… And for what…?"

He shakily opened his eyes and looked toward the house. "A good family," the Doctor said quietly. "That's what…"

Coughing gently, he pulled a golden fob watch from his pocket.

"Well," he muttered, "You told me not to open it until my time was up."

The Doctor clicked the button and looked at the pocket watch curiously.

After a moment, he closed the watch gently with a grin on his face. "Oh, I believe time is indeed up… But the good part hasn't yet begun," he said, thinking about what he'd seen in the Memory Receptacle.

Smiling, the Doctor looked up at the stars. "No regeneration this time… But I can still laugh, can't I? Cause if I'm not mistaken, that old question's still on the table…"

His breathing grew lighter, and the Doctor's eyes settled on the Moon.

"Doctor… Who?"

In the few minutes between Will's being dragged inside and time for bed, there had been no time to see what the gift was.

"Mom, can I at least look at - ?"

"No," his mother said, taking it out of his hand and putting it in his hand. "Wait until you're in bed, okay?"

Will grunted, looking at the floor.

Five minutes later, he ran into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The curiosity grew unbearable; in his excitement, Will neglected to turn on the light switch. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the object from his pocket.

Glowing gold, the key was surprisingly warm in the palm of his hand. Other than the radiance and the gentle heat which came from the key, that's all it was… A key.

Will frowned. "Is that really it…?"

He flipped the key over and now noticed something: six letters were inscripted flawlessly into the side. Holding it near his eye, Will turned on the light switch to read the letters.

T.A.R.D.I.S.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Will McBranson sat on the cold stone curb in front of the Redbridge Art Museum, twiddling his thumbs boredly as the rest of the class listened to Doctor Franklin's monotone lecture.

"Now, as on all other class trips, the rules are simple. Don't touch anything without permission, don't talk when someone else is explaining something, and _don't_ leave the group during the tour. If you do, you'll be serving an hour-long detention after school…"

The group laughed at first; Redbridge University had few students who would actually listen to these rules.

"…With the janitors," Doctor Franklin added.

Immediately, the laughter stopped.

Rolling his eyes, Will looked up at the cloudless sky and sighed, muttering the words to "Stairway To Heaven" under his breath. He'd rather suffer that detention than stay on this field trip; after all, the school's custodian wasn't half bad. Anything was better than a boring old art museum.

The Redbridge Art Museum had recently undergone a massive series of renovations, including the addition of a rather extravagant Van Gogh exhibit, and no one had been more enthusiastic about the trip than Professor Whiting, the hippie-like art teacher who stood at the head of the class with a large yellow-toothed grin in an XXL tie-dye shirt and a bandana. Will believed the Professor was evil somewhere inside, because it was he who had suggested the Redbridge Art Museum as a field trip location.

"Everyone got the rules?"

Before waiting for an answer, Professor Whiting stood up straight and shouted, "Then let's go!" A child at heart to both his students and his unamused colleagues, Professor Whiting had some noteworthy reasons to be so enthusiastic about life. Three years before, the year Will had joined the Ilford School Of Arts, otherwise known as Redbridge University, the formerly dull teacher lost his wife and children in a plane crash. During one of his "life speeches", Professor Whiting said that he made the best of his life, "because you never know when you could lose it."

And so he became a hippie. Made perfect sense.

Will stood and rejoined the class, standing in the back quietly. To him, a hyperactive 21-year old from a small apartment in London, the Redbridge Art Museum was nothing less than torture; but, Professor Whiting had told them to at least look half-interested or their homework would double, so Will was forced to put on a light smile as the group walked inside.

You would've thought that the massive entrance hall of the Redbridge Art Museum was enough to stupefy anyone, heralded by a marble copy of The Thinker as its 14-foot centerpiece, but Will was unimpressed.

"Sure," he thought aloud, "It's a statue. Big deal."

Professor Whiting stopped mid-sentence and looked at Will disappointedly. "Is there something you'd like to add, Mr. McBranson?"

As the whole of the class turned to face Will, he refrained from saying, "Yes, there is. I want to go back to my dorm, Fatty!", and instead kept his mouth closed.

This, however, didn't satisfy Professor Whiting. "See those angels at the entrance, Mr. McBranson?"

Will turned and saw a pair of chipped, faded stone angels standing by the door. They held their faces in their hands as though they were weeping, and their wings appeared nearly limp. Something about them sent a chill down his spine, and he looked away.

"Those angels were moved here from the Louvre a few months ago," Professor Whiting said, "Where they've been sitting since 1941. Can you say you've been around since World War II?"

Will couldn't do more than shake his head; something about the angels paled his skin and made him sweat.

Clearing his throat and smiling again, Professor Whiting said, "Let's continue."

The Van Gogh exhibit was a bit overrated to Will.

When they walked inside, Professor Whiting's eyes glowed and his yellow-tooth smile spread from ear to ear. "Oh, this is magnificent. They're all so extravagant…"

The Professor reminded them that they had 10 minutes in the exhibit before they had to move on, but they'd return at the end of the trip.

As Professor Whiting walked off to examine the art, and the "cliques" of the class gathered to gossip about recent and meaningless events, Will boredly checked his cellphone.

Dead.

"Sorry Liz," he muttered, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

This would be the first trip Will knew of that he wouldn't be able to talk to his friend Liz, who was in Cardiff University for culinary arts. The pair had been friends since middle school in London with nothing to separate them or dampen their friendship. Even when Liz moved to Upper Cardiff after high school, the two stayed closer than two peas in a pod.

Will sighed and crossed his fingers in his pocket, silently wishing for something… Anything.

He couldn't deny that he wanted to be more than friends. Now that he had the guts to talk about it, however, he would rather do it in person…

As his eyes wandered the room, Will unexpectedly found a target of interest.

In the center of the watercolor painting, there seemed to be an exploding London police box. Mind you, the painting would've caught anyone's attention, but just looking at it sent a shock through Will.

His hand fell to his other pocket, and he pulled out a glowing key - a gift from his late grandfather. As he ran his fingers across the letters on the side, T.A.R.D.I.S., Will looked back toward the entrance hall.

Maybe he simply couldn't see them from this distance, but the angels appeared to have vanished.

Closing his hand around the key, Will shook his head and looked back toward the painting. 'Must be losing my mind,' he thought. 'Wouldn't surprise me a bit…'

He checked to make sure that no one was looking, and then he slowly reached out with his empty hand to touch the painting. Just before his fingers touched the dark blue police box, Professor Whiting shouted for the class to move on.

Reluctantly, Will let his hand fall to his side and he followed the other 97 students out of the exhibit.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Will opened the door and dropped his bag beside the desk, jumping into bed and stretching out on his back. After laying on the wrinkled comforter for a moment, Will threw a crumpled up jacket at his snoring roommate, Liam.

Groggily sitting up in bed, Liam rubbed his near-black eyes and yawned loudly. "What in God's name is so important, Will, that you had to wake me up?"

Will sat up and twiddled his thumbs. "Does the word 'Pandorica' sound familiar?"

"The what?"

At the end of the field trip, when Professor Whiting led the class back into the Van Gogh exhibit, the curator had joined them to answer any questions about the museum.

Will had pointed to the exploding police box and asked, "What's that painting called?"

The curator followed his gaze and smiled, turning toward the watercolor piece. "Van Gogh never named this piece officially, although his caretaker maintained that the painting was inspired by a man named the Doctor, and Van Gogh referred to it once as The Pandorica Opens. Other than that, there is no knowledge about the name of this painting."

"All I can tell is, it sounds a bit like Pandora." Liam yawned and crawled back under the blankets. "So maybe it's a box… Now let me sleep…"

Within a minute, Liam was snoring once again.

Will shrugged and sat down at the desk, turning on the computer monitor.

For two hours, he searched the Internet for any information on the Pandorica, or at least more about the painting.

Outside, the sun sank beneath the green pines of Redbridge and gave way to the pale light of the moon. The songbirds called from their pine needle nests and ended their melodies for the day. In his dorm room, sitting in his chair, Will had nearly fallen asleep.

Looking at the clock, he sighed and turned off the computer. The two hours were fruitless and wasteful; there was nothing anywhere about the Pandorica, and no more useful information about the painting.

Will looked at his phone, which charged next to his desk.

"Maybe Mom knows something," he murmured tiredly, unplugging the phone and calling his mother.

Throughout her childhood, Will's mom had probably heard the same stories that he had - twice, considering she would've heard her father tell these tales to Will, tales about the time-traveling Doctor and his T.A.R.D.I.S.. All this mumbo jumbo about the Doctor… Perhaps there was more to know about him.

"Hello? Will?"

Will cleared his throat. "Hey, Mum."

"Hey. Is something wrong? You sound worried."

"No, Mum. Just tired… I had a question about the Doctor."

A short pause. "William, you know your grandfather told us the same stories. You know everything I know about the Doctor."

"But I wanna hear you say it. Just to make sure."

His mother sighed. "The Doctor was a time-traveling alien from the planet Gallifrey. He was the last member of the Time Lords, a race of highly advanced beings who were destroyed in the Last Great Time War against the Daleks. Like anyone else would, he became depressed after the fall of the Time Lords. For a while, it seemed like he had no hope. But a girl named Rose helped the Doctor. She made him happy. That's it… Wait, I'm forgetting the police box. That T.A.R.D.I.S. thing."

The painting flashed into Will's mind and he smiled, standing next to the window. "Thanks, Mum. Just making sure I heard it right."

"Okay… Shouldn't you be studying, Will?"

"I've, er… I've already studied, Mum." A street light outside flickered and went dark, and Will raised an eyebrow. "I think the power network's messin' up again. One of the lights in front of my dorm just went out."

"Well," his mother suggested, "Maybe you should check on it. I've got to go. Love you, Will."

Will muttered, "Love you too, Mum." He ended the call and plugged his phone back up, grabbing the nightstick off his desk and leaving the room.

'T.A.R.D.I.S.,' he thought as he stepped down the stairs. 'Police box… Inspired by man named the Doctor…'

Another street lamp went out. "Maybe they're just testing the network," Will said hopefully, turning on the nightstick.

As he spoke, a fierce hissing noise erupted around him. Will jumped and aimed the light wildly. "'Ello…?"

The hissing noise became progressively louder, and more lights went out. Now he noticed a pattern…

…They were turning off toward him.

Will stepped forward with the light, and one final street lamp went out.

The emptiness of shadow was broken by the now visible images of two stone angels - the same angels from the art museum, except now their hands now stretched toward Will with long claws, and their teeth were bared murderously.

Will should've been utterly horrified, a sheltered Londoner who'd never faced the slightest danger. Rather, he stood up straight and kept the light aimed on the angels.

As he listened, the hissing now formed audible words:  
"Child of Gallifrey, we have come to end your bloodline."

Will's mind raced. 'Child of Gallifrey?'

Slowly, he pulled the golden key from his pocket.

Instantly the nightstick went out, and Will closed his eyes, expecting certain death.

Nothing.

Will opened one eye.

The golden key glowed like it had when he was a child, the bronze light shining up to three feet away.

Like cats from a dog, the angels had gone.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The next day was beyond uncomfortable for Will. Ever since the angels had called him 'Child of Gallifrey', he'd felt different… Alien.

As he stood up to leave his last class of the day, Will thought, 'What if I am an alien?' Immediately he shook his head and chuckled at his own idiocy. Will was completely human, and he knew it… Right?

For fear of insanity, Will forced himself to forget the events of the night before -

"Mr. McBranson, I'd like to speak with you."

Professor Sparrow had been the only good part of the day for Will; she was practically his second mother, and in many ways. His first year at Redbridge, when he'd been bullied consistently in nearly all classes, Professor Sparrow had found the students responsible and referred them to Headmaster Lloyd. If there was anyone he could tell about what had happened the night before, it was Professor Sparrow.

Will turned around and walked to his Professor's desk. "Yes ma'am?"

"You wouldn't happen to know about the power outage last night, would you?" Judging by her tone, Professor Sparrow already knew something was up.

Will coughed and said, "I might… That is, I've got a theory."

The gray-haired Professor sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Well?" She seemed more serious to Will than he'd ever seen her before.

"Well… I was talking to my mum when the first street lamp went out outside of my dorm. When I went outside to check on it, two more had gone dark. And then…"

"Then what?"

Will couldn't bring himself to tell her. Professor Sparrow would think he'd lost his mind and send him to an asylum.

'Or maybe not,' a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered.

"…There were these angels. Like, stone angels. I saw them at the museum yesterday, and by the time we left they were gone… I think." Will cleared his throat.

Professor Sparrow looked at the broken camera on her desk, a memento from her days as a photographer, and sat forward. "Go on."

"A-and when I went outside to check on the lights, the angels tried attacking me. But they couldn't move when I was looking at them… I-I think they were trying to turn off the lights. So they could kill me."

"Now why would they do that?" The Professor seemed to know the answer, and she knew Will did too; she just wanted him to say it himself.

"…They told me, 'Child of Gallifrey, we have come to end your bloodline.' After that, I pulled out this old thing - " Will pulled out the golden key, which was beginning to glow again. " - And the light scared 'em away, I guess… You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Professor Sparrow stared at him for a moment. Then she picked up the camera and rubbed her hand across the lens. "No, I don't. Because you're not the first to encounter these Weeping Angels."

"Weeping Angels… That's what they were doing at the museum. They had their faces in their hands… You've seen them before?"

The Professor nodded and put the camera down. "If I had to explain it to anyone, I'd say it like this: the Weeping Angels are predators from the beginning of time itself, born to survive and to kill. They turn to stone whenever you look at them; they're quantum-locked, the ultimate defense. You can't kill stone, and that's what they are… Until you turn your back. And now, it seems like they've learned to talk. That's just great…"

Will sat down in the chair across from the Professor. "What do you know about the Doctor? And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, I know you've met him. You must've."

Professor Sparrow smiled and chuckled. "I thought he wasn't real, Will. You said he was only a bedtime story whenever you talked about your grandfather."  
"Yeah, well, now I don't know anymore. First I see this painting at the museum that was supposedly painted after Van Gogh met the Doctor, then these angels ramble on about Gallifrey… He was real. I know it. Everything my grandfather told me about him was true."

"But perhaps he didn't tell you the entire truth."

Will couldn't respond.

"I did meet the Doctor. Twice. Well, three times if you count televisual communication. The first time, he could've told you everything there was to know about me. The second time, he'd never seen me before."

"A-and the third time?"

Professor Sparrow sighed and looked at the camera. "The third time was a sad, sad time. The Doctor gathered some of his greatest friends to London, his favorite place on Earth, and told us he was retiring. His time as a hero was over. After giving us an order - he called it a payment for everything he'd done - the Doctor left us, and I never saw him again."

Will leaned forward. "What did he tell you to do?"

The Professor shook her head. "I promised not to tell anyone… Though there may be someone who can tell you."  
"Who?"

"A man named Luke Smith was there. Last I heard, he was living in Ilford - "

Will jumped out of his chair and ran toward the door. "Thank you, Professor Sparrow!"  
As he left the classroom, he thought of exactly how he would find this Luke Smith.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Will thanked the bus driver and hopped off at 1742 Baker Street in Ilford - the home of Luke Smith.

It had only taken a quick look in the online phone book to find the Doctor's friend, and… Well, here he was.

Clearing his throat and holding a picture of _The Pandorica Opens_, Will walked up the path to Mr. Smith's door.

Lined with fresh pine hedges, the walkway alone was enough to tell that Mr. Smith was a rather wealthy man. One footstep would land on concrete, and the other on polished marble. Perhaps he wanted to keep a partially suburban demeanor…

'Or maybe he's a bit off his rocker,' Will thought as he reached the doormat, which was unimaginably frayed. On one side of the door was a bronze address sign - '1742 Baker Street; Smith Residence' - and directly across from it was a simple name tag which read, "My Name Is: Luke." His name was in bright red ink, and it hurt Will's eyes to look at.

Before he decided this man was legally insane, Will tapped the door lightly. When no one answered, he knocked a bit louder.

A young girl who may have been around his age answered the door. Her short, straight hair was a bright fiery orange, and she smiled at Will politely. "'Ello. May I help you?"

"Uh…" Will tore away from her emerald-green eyes and looked down at the picture in his hands. "I-I need to speak with Luke Smith."

The girl nodded and stepped aside to let Will in. "Dad's in the living room. Go left from the painting."

Directly across from the wooden door was a crooked painting identical to the one Will held in his hand. Upon realizing this, he stared for a moment at the gold-framed picture.

Smith's daughter laughed playfully and grabbed his arm. "Not the quickest, are ya?"

Will coughed and looked down at her, pulling his arm away. "Sorry. Just…" He shook his head and walked inside.

Glancing at the painting again as he walked by, Will smiled a bit when he realized that Led Zeppelin was playing in the house. "Your dad a Zeppelin fan, uh… I believe I forgot to ask your name."

"Oh, it's fine." The girl smiled and held out her hand. "My name's Lucy, sir. Lucy Smith."

Will shook her hand. "Will McBranson. And I'm just a university student, no need to call me sir."

Before Lucy could respond, the two heard shouting from the living room: "What's all this nonsense about Cardiff burning, eh?! Jack just called a minute ago and said there was a fire at the University!"

Chuckling halfheartedly, Lucy said, "I'll have to apologize about Dad. He's not wrapped too tight."

"What do you mean?"

Lucy shrugged. "Sometimes he hallucinates, I suppose. One time he told us the cat was flying. And we've never _had_ a cat."

Will laughed a bit and walked into the living room.

The first thing he saw was a rather oversized flat-screen television that could've been 70 inches long. In the leather chair across from it was a thin balding man with a cigarette in his mouth. Excluding the cigar and the yellowed teeth, Mr. Smith had an oddly childish face.

"It doesn't _look_ like the University's burnin'! Or does it?"

On the television was a weather report from Cardiff; snow had fallen just north of the city, and it was moving south as a reportedly hazardous blizzard.

Lucy bent over next to her father and grabbed the remote, turning the television off. "Just calm down, Dad. The University isn't burning, and it's not going to. There's someone here to see you."

Mr. Smith looked at Will and pulled the cigar out of his mouth, blowing smoke. "Who are you?"

Looking at Lucy nervously, Will said, "My name's Will McBranson. I was told you had some information about the Doctor."

Dropping his cigarette into the ashtray and leaning forward in his chair, Mr. Smith sent Lucy out of the room. "I need to talk with Mr. McBranson alone. Won't take too long."

Lucy nodded worriedly and left the room.

"Now," Mr. Smith said, gesturing to a chair. "Who told you about me?"

Will sat down and responded, "Professor Sally Sparrow at the University. She told me you and a few others knew the Doctor personally."

"So I did. But why do you want to know about him?"

"Because I've heard of this Doctor my entire life. He used to be just a bedtime story from my grandfather. I only found out he was real today, from the Professor. And she told me that the Doctor gave you all an order. I want to know what it was."

Mr. Smith stared at Will for a moment. Quietly, he repeated what Will had said, before standing up. "Mr. McBranson, I believe you're sorely mistaken. The Doctor was never a simple bedtime story from your grandfather. Your grandfather and the Doctor are one and the same. All those stories he told you about the mad man in a box were stories about himself."


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Somehow, it didn't surprise Will. Everything he'd gone through so far had seemingly prepared him for this.

"Child of Gallifrey," he muttered. "Makes sense now, I suppose."

Mr. Smith nodded to Will and looked at his vein-webbed hands. "Of course it does… The Doctor retired in 2010, the year you were born. He brought us together - myself, Sally Sparrow, and a few others - in London and gave us a specific order: to watch over you, and to protect you. The only reason the Doctor retired rather than live out his last regeneration among the stars is because he knew that there would be someone on Earth who could take his place."

As Mr. Smith walked into another room, Will stood and followed him. "Take his place? What do you mean?"

"You don't get it, do you? The Doctor has saved the universe countless times in his time-traveling police box, and now it's someone else's turn to take the helm of the T.A.R.D.I.S." Mr. Smith opened a closet and pulled out a shoebox, walking back into the living room.

Will stopped in place and pulled out his golden key.

Like he had 15 years before, Will flipped the key over and read the letters on the side aloud: "T.A.R.D.I.S." He looked up at Mr. Smith. "You mean this is a key to the T.A.R.D.I.S.?"

"It's the key, to be more correct. Sit."

Will sat back down in the soft chair across from Mr. Smith, who moved his ashtray and set the box down. "Open it, William. There's something inside that your grandfather wanted you to have."

Shaking with excitement, Will pulled the top of the box off and set it down in the floor. Reaching his hand in, he removed a long silvery device. Decorative pieces on the cylinder-shaped gadget were bright white, and at the end of the device was a small gray bulb. Will pressed a small button on the side and the bulb glowed platinum.

"W-what is it?"

Mr. Smith smiled. "It's called a sonic screwdriver. The bulb acts as a mobile power source, at least when you press the top button. Now try the one below it."

Will pressed the second button down and the room transformed into a black-and-white grid. Words on the sides told him that the walls were simple brick covered with a thick layer of plaster, and the ceiling light needed replacing. "Um… Says you need to fix your light…" He looked toward Mr. Smith and the silhouette of the older man appeared with his heat signals showing inside. The words now said, "Archetype. Artificial human. Creation of the Bane."

"Y-you're not human?"  
"Come now, stop stuttering. I'm an artificial human. Don't really like talking about it, but a species called the Bane created me in their attempt to invade the Earth. As you can tell, it didn't exactly work. The only thing they did right was making a near-perfect human. But that's not the point. That screwdriver will help you greatly in your travels."

Will raised an eyebrow and laughed nervously. "I haven't even agreed to take the Doctor's place - "

Mr. Smith's smile vanished. "Listen. I promised the Doctor that I'd watch over you and protect you, that I'd point you in the right direction to be who he was - a hero. I've already messed up part of that promise, and I don't plan on ruining anything else."

"What do you mean you messed part of it up?"

"I was ordered to help you in your life. You've never met me before today, have you?"

Will slowly shook his head.

"That's my point. Now, I'm not telling you this so I'll have a weight off of my chest, I'm telling you this so that the universe won't be in any more danger. A lot's changed since the Doctor stopped traveling. Things have become more dangerous, and the cosmos needs a guardian. That guardian is you."

There was a long pause. Then Will looked at the sonic screwdriver and slipped it into his pocket. "Suppose there's no getting around that, then."

Mr. Smith shook his head. "Not at all."

Will smiled a bit and muttered, "Then I guess I'll just have to accept that. Thank you, Mr. Smith."

With that, he walked out.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Upon returning to his dorm room, Will grabbed his phone and called Liz immediately.

Not including texts, the two hadn't spoken over the phone for a week.

It took a few rings, but Liz finally picked up. "'Ello? Will?"

"Hey, Liz." Will was happy to hear her voice again. "How you been?"

"Oh, the usual. Food stuff. You?"

Will was silent for a second, not sure about whether or not to tell her about the Doctor. "I've been good, thank you. We went to the art museum yesterday. They've renovated quite a bit, you know."

They talked for a while before Will brought up anything. "So listen, uh, I went to someone about a job, a-and they said they'd think about it. The job is gonna take me all over the world, and I won't be back in England for a while if they accept me."  
"Oh really? What's the job?"

"It's, uh… Well, I'll just keep it a secret." It was a good cover-up, but it hurt will to lie to Liz like that.

"Oh," Liz said somewhat disappointedly. "Okay. Well, I've got to go. Talk to you later, Will."

"You too." Will hung up the phone and cursed under his breath. "Secret… Shouldn't be a bloody - "

"Oy." Liam sat up in bed, having heard the conversation. "You didn't tell me about any travelin' job."

Will cringed. "I'm gonna be leavin' Redbridge for a while, Liam. It's not exactly a job, but… It was all I could think of at the moment."

Liam sneered. "Not a job? Then what is it?"

"Nothing you need to know about," Will growled, putting his phone in his pocket and opening the pair's shared mini-fridge. "Want anything?"

"One Coke, please. And do you know anything about them stone angels in front of the dorm?"

Will stood up straight and tossed Liam his soda, closing the fridge door with his foot. "_What_ angels?"

Liam took a swig of Coke and pointed outside with the bottle. "University must've decided to go in a classical decoration path. There's a pair of stone angels outside every dorm at Redbridge. They've been there since I woke up."

Frowning, Will peered out the window. Sure enough, standing in front of the dorm were a pair of chipped stone angels with their faces in their hands. As he looked to the dorms left and right of his, Will saw identical angels guarding those doors as well.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and gripped the T.A.R.D.I.S. key. "Liam?"

Liam burped loudly. "Yeah?"

"You've got a car, right?"

"'Course I do. Why?"

"We're going on a field trip."

The Redbridge Art Museum could've easily been compared to a haunted house when Will was locked inside on the night of November 17, 2031.

Only ten minutes before, when the snow began to fall on Redbridge, Will and Liam pulled up to the strangely empty art museum with a mixed sense of dread and curiosity.

"Alright," Will had said, "Let me off here. Don't come with me."

He pulled the door handle but the car was still locked. "Not so fast, Will. First," Liam said, "You're going to tell me why I just drove you to a bloody museum. Then, after you tell me what this whole traveling business is about, I'll let you out."

Will looked outside. The snow was beginning to fall thicker now. "Don't do this, Liam. That museum closes in five minutes and I need to get in there before - "

"Before what? What's so important, Will? What's going to happen?"

There was a pause as one of the two other cars in the parking lot pulled off.

"Liam," Will said slowly, "There are forces at work here that you don't understand, that _I_ don't understand. But all you need to know is that I _have_ to go into that museum. If you think everything's strange with spontaneous stone angels, let me tell you things haven't even started. This world will become Hell. Now, if you don't want that to happen, then let - me - out."

Liam looked at Will for a moment and then unlocked the door.

Will had run out of the car in the falling snow. As he began to walk inside the museum, Liam had shouted from the car, "Will! Whatever you're doing in that place… Be careful, alright?"

Will yelled back, "Trust me! I'll be fine!" He walked into the museum.

The Curator was the only person left in the museum, inspecting the paintings in the entrance hall; Will hid behind a pillar as the art director walked by. When the Curator was gone, Will ran through the Van Gogh exhibit and hid inside the cramped janitor's closet.

He tried to breathe quietly, listening to the footsteps of the museum administrator fade away. As the main doors of the Redbridge Art Museum were locked for the night, the only sound in the entire building was Will's anxious heartbeat.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

_Hiss_.

Ba-dum.

Will pulled out the screwdriver and opened the closet door. The silvery light of the bright bulb stretched some five feet, illuminating the cold marble corridor.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" Will's footsteps were quiet along the stone floor, and he wandered around the museum cautiously. Every few seconds, he'd hear a hissing noise around him. 'No need to worry,' Will thought, 'They want to make a show out of killing the Doctor's grandson. Let them have one moment of glory. Might be… Fun.'

As he entered the 60's art room, Will sensed the number of creatures around him triple. Smirking, he said, "Well then. Time to play."

He turned off the light.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"Think you're gonna have fun at Cardiff?"

"I sure hope so. If not… Oh well."

The date was June 17, 2029.

Will McBranson and Elizabeth Kelton sat on a picnic table in front of the Cleeve Park School in Bexley, talking about the latter's moving to Wales.

"Liz," Will suggested, "Don't you think you could just find a culinary school near London? I mean, there's got to be a few."

"There are, Will." Liz brushed her hair behind her ear and looked at Will sadly. "If there was one that had courses like the ones at Cardiff University, I'd do everything I could to stay here. But since we visited Cardiff, I've been in love with both the University and the courses."

Sighing, Will looked down at his hands. "There's some good ones at Redbridge, I think…"

"Will."

Will looked back up at Liz.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do. You want us to stay near each other, and so do I. But I can't help that Dad's got a job there. He's wanted this job his whole life, and I can't change that. Nobody can. Besides, I know Cardiff is where I belong, and I've accepted that. Can you?"

After a moment, Will nodded. "I can. And I will."

Liz smiled and kissed Will on the cheek. "Thank you."

A few minutes later, Liz had to leave. The moving van was already halfway to Cardiff, and her parents were here to get Liz.

"Well," Liz said, standing up. "Looks like I've got to go, Will."

Will nodded and stood beside her. "Yep… I suppose you do."

The two looked at each other for a moment, their eyes filling with tears, and Will hugged her tightly. Liz wrapped her arms around him and cried into his chest.

"Hey," Will said, holding her shoulders. "It's gonna be alright, okay? Don't worry. We'll see each other again. The cold grip of death itself couldn't end our friendship. Death would get quite a fight from me if it tried ending it, trust me."

Liz smiled tearfully and laughed a bit. "And the same goes for me. Goodbye, Will McBranson."

"Goodbye, and good luck."

As Will watched the family car pull away, Liz yelled three words out the window which were lost in the windy afternoon air:

"I love you."

Immediately, Will pulled the T.A.R.D.I.S. key from his pocket.

Nearly twenty angels stood around him, baring their razor-sharp teeth and staring at Will with empty eyes.

"Child of Gallifrey," they hissed, "We have come to - "

"You've come to end my bloodline," Will interjected. "I already know. We don't have to go through this again, or at all. 'Cause you're gonna have a fun time trying to end me, you winged devils. Or perhaps I should say angels, actually, though that just doesn't sound right to call the epitome of evil an angel."

"But," he said loudly, looking at each and every statue, "I suppose it's right to call you all angels of death - or perhaps failure! Remember yesterday, boys?! When you tried killing me then? All it took to scare you off was this thing!" Will pointed to the key and laughed. "A simple golden key - except, it's not! And you all know it's not! You know that it's the key to that thing right there!"

Will pointed to one of the decorations in the 60's art room, standing in the corner alone.

Beautifully blue, old and new, the T.A.R.D.I.S. was a marvel to behold, no matter how ordinary it seemed from the outside. Will knew that it was even more wonderful to behold on the inside - but he'd have to wait for that.

"For now, of course - well, what about now? What do you plan on doin' to kill me, eh?"

The hissing voices of the angels combined into one bone-chilling noise which echoed throughout the museum like a pile of angry snakes:

"If you do not give us your life, Child of Gallifrey, the girl shall die."

Will laughed nervously. "What girl? Who are you talkin' about?"

He knew exactly which girl the angels were talking about, and he hoped he was wrong.

"Your colleague Elizabeth Kelton shall die if you do not give us your life."

Will's hand went numb, and he would've dropped the T.A.R.D.I.S. key if his fist hadn't been clenched so tightly. "How is that possible? How are you going to kill a girl all the way in Wales if you're up here?"

"Three angels follow her in the shadows, ready to strike when we command it. If you do not give us your life - "

"She'll die… Yeah, I've got that…"

To his dismay, a mental war raged inside him. Mr. Smith's words echoed in his mind - 'Things have become more dangerous, and the cosmos needs a guardian. That guardian is you.' What if Will died here, before even saving a single life? And who else would there be to replace the Doctor? All the other Time Lords had gone a long time ago. He was all there was to protect the Earth, and ultimately the universe.

'But what about Liz?'

Will couldn't just let her die… Could he?

He felt her in his arms once again, the warm tears running down his face as they said their goodbyes. 'Don't worry. We'll see each other again.'

Will closed his eyes and shook away tears. "No. She won't die. Neither of us will. I'll kill all of you before you can even breathe a word to those angels in Cardiff."

The angels hissed, "If you do not give - "

"_I bloody heard you_! But maybe it's time for _YOU_ to hear _ME_! You will kill _NO ONE_ today if I have anything to say about it!" Will's hand began to glow, and he threw down the T.A.R.D.I.S. key. The gold key clattered on the cold floor, and Will kicked it toward the police box in the corner.

"I don't need a time-traveling _POLICE BOX_ to defeat you! 'Cause I'm no ordinary college student from London! I'm the Child of Gallifrey, the Second Storm!" The words rolled off his tongue from nowhere, but he continued. "I'm not just a human, you stone gargoyles, I'm a TIME LORD! I'm the Keybearer of Earth, the protector of the cosmos! And furthermore, _I_ - _AM_ - _WILL MCBRANSON_!"

Energy exploded from Will's hand in a golden beam of light, vaporizing the first angel on impact. Any angel who wasn't completely disintegrated would crumble into a pile of dust on the angel who wasn't completely disintegrated would crumble into a pile of dust on the floor.

The next minute was a blur of fiery anger mixed with destruction, and Will would vaguely remember himself yelling - a warrior's cry, the fury of a Time Lord.

When the last angel was gone, Will's hand returned to normal, thin wisps of steam rising up from it as he walked slowly toward the blue police box in the corner.

'Liz is safe,' he thought tiredly. 'Time to fulfill that promise, eh?'

Picking up the T.A.R.D.I.S. key, Will put his hand on the box's misty window and put the key in.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

Elizabeth Kelton stood on the snow-covered sidewalk in front of her dorm room, leaning on an icy lamp pole.

"Darn it… Will McBranson, answer the bloody phone…"

She redialed the phone number and waited for the fourth time.

One ring… Two…

"Liz?"

"Will! Finally!"

"Finally _what_? Not necessarily a reason to be impatient about it - well, maybe there is, but this instruction manual isn't exactly the easiest thing to work - "

Liz heard sparks fly on the other side of the phone, and Will cursed loudly. "What was that, Will? What are you doin'?"

Will shouted, "Oh, nothing - ! This police box doesn't work like it used to, apparently!"

_Whooosh_.

"Don't you tell me that was nothing," Liz snapped. "What - "

"I don't need to tell you what it was, you just need to pay attention!"

_Whooosh_.

Liz shouted, "What do you mean - "

"Your left! Look to your left!"

_Whooosh_.

"And what is that bloody noise?!"

"It's the T.A. - " Liz lost the rest of the word in a crashing noise.

_Whooosh_.

"What happened?!"

"Just look to your left. That'll answer everything."

Liz growled in frustration and turned her head.

She nearly dropped the phone.

Just across the street, half-transparent and still materializing, was a London police box. The whooshing noises seemed to be coming from the box with every materialization pulse. When it became fully solid on the sidewalk, there was a landing noise like an airplane door.

"What in God's name…?"

"Now," Will said, rushing around on the other side of the phone, "Look to your right for a moment. There should be a large, green dumpster beside you, filled to the brim with trash bags."

Liz turned again, seeing the dumpster. "Yeah? What about it?"

"Nothing! Just needed an excuse for you to look away!"

Confused, Liz looked back toward the police box.

There, leaning on the dark blue door with sweat on his brow and the most confident smile in history, was Will McBranson. Around his neck was a thick leather string, on which hung a golden glowing key.

For that one moment, Liz cared about nothing else. Not the thick layer of snow on which she stood, or the icy cold air which gave her goosebumps with every breath. She only cared about one thing:

"Will."

Dropping her phone in the snow, Liz ran across the road quickly and tacked Will, hugging him tightly. "H-How did you - ?"

Looking down at her, Will smiled. "Would you like to see?"

Liz nodded, letting go of Will. "You're covered in sweat… And it's only 20° out here."

"Oh, pish posh. Nothing makes sense anymore." Will snapped his fingers and the doors of the police box opened, illuminating the two in golden light.

Liz lost the ability to speak as soon as she looked inside.

The inside of the police box, which was easily twelve times as large on the inside as on the outside, had platinum walls and a floor of pure gold, with a centerpiece control panel covered with countless buttons and levers. In the middle of the panel was a glass tube which reached to the top of the police box; electrical currents flickered like lightning inside, crackling in a dangerous yet beautiful manner.

"It's… Bigger on the inside."

Will raised an eyebrow and walked toward the control panel, leaning back on it and facing Liz. "Is that it? 'Bigger on the inside'? Nothing about the decor? Well, I suppose there could be a bit more color. But that's not what matters, right?"

Liz slowly nodded and walked toward Will. "W-what is this thing? You can't tell me it's just a police box…"

"It's not, trust me. Remember this old thing?" Will held up the key on his necklace. "Turns out it was a key for this old thing, the T.A.R.D.I.S. Everything my grandfather told me about the Doctor, all those stories I'd mention at school… They were all true. And guess who the Doctor was?"

"W-who?"

"My grandfather, surprisingly, which makes me a quarter Time Lord. Would be a bit nicer if it was half or something, but I can't exactly choose my bloodline, can I?"

"You mean… You're part alien?"

"Of course I am. Didn't surprise me one bit. And at least I'm not part Weeping Angel… That'd be a bit strange, wouldn't it? But that's just one species to talk about, obviously, out of trillions upon trillions in our universe… Hey. How'd you like to meet them?"

Liz blinked. "W-what?"

"Come on, Elizabeth!" Will walked around the control panel, looking at the glass tube in the center. "All the countless stars, all the endless worlds in the cosmos, any point in time and space to choose from… Don't you want to see them?"

Liz looked at Will and pointed at the closed door behind her. "I've got school. So do you."

"No," Will said laughingly and walking back toward Liz quickly, "I don't. I believe Professor Sparrow will arrange things for me. As for you… Well, the T.A.R.D.I.S., as I said before, isn't just a spaceship. It can travel through time, forwards and backwards, side to side, even diagonally if you want." He poked her nose and smiled. "We could travel for as long as you want and come back in five minutes. When I answered the phone, it was a warm afternoon in Redbridge on the 19th. Now I'm in this cold city of Cardiff at near-midnight on the 17th. Do I need to prove anything else to you, Elizabeth Kelton?"

Liz looked at him for a moment. Then, hesitantly, she put her hand on her face. "You've changed, Will… You've grown up. You're more adventurous than I've ever seen you… Everything I ever thought good about you has grown exponentially. No, Will. You don't need to prove a single thing."

Will smiled with glee and flipped a lever. "Well, then! Welcome aboard the T.A.R.D.I.S.! Where, Ms. Kelton, would you like to start?"

Liz thought for a moment. "4th century Britain," she decided. "Always wanted to see the real Celts."

"In that case," Will shouted, running around the panel quickly and activating controls as he went, "Someone had better call the Celts and warn them to prepare some food, cause I'm starving!" As he flipped the final lever, the T.A.R.D.I.S. rocked violently sideways, knocking both of the occupants over.

"Sorry!" Will yelled from the floor, pulling himself up. "Still trying to get used to - "

The T.A.R.D.I.S. lurched forward, and the electrical currents in the panel tube intensified. "There we go!" Will laughed loudly. Clutching Liz's hand and pulling her up, he shouted, "Goodbye Cardiff, and hello Celts!"

A rushing sensation overwhelmed both of them, and the T.A.R.D.I.S. began to vanish once more.

Just across the street, sitting in the snow silently, was a tall brown-haired man with a chipped silver headset attached to one ear. As he watched, the police box dematerialized once again and left a three-by-three square in the snow. The man stood up and sighed, pulling off the earpiece. "It's about time someone got that old thing. We've needed help for a long time. Everyone has."

Staring at the place where the T.A.R.D.I.S. had just been, Captain Jack Harkness shook his head and limped down the cold streets of Cardiff.


End file.
